He grunted and raised his fist to just beneath his chest, adjusting my hand so that it rested more formally in the bend of his arm. Calix took my left hand, his fingers small in my grasp, and together we stepped into the open courtyards as a family.
The castle lay ahead of us. Gardens of roses and lilacs stretched in its shadows. They were all manner of other flowers too. Beyond that, the top foliage and little white buds on orchard trees showed above a row of hedges.
Though it was early, a few servants were out working in the garden. Most looked up to us briefly before turning back to their work. I supposed that, in our state, they mistook us for the family of a guardsman. Quickening my steps to keep up with Neirin’s longer strides as we followed a small footpath skirting the side of the castle, I became aware of the mud lining thebottom of my dress. Would it be evident that Calix and I did not belong here? Was a man of the guard expected to marry well? My heart sank. What was I but the sister of an orphaned apothecary?
We approached a side entrance to the castle, the door was left propped open. The smell of bread came from inside, and chattering voices filled the air.
“Nyana will have what you need to brew your tea,” Neirin said, halting a few paces from the door.
Nyana, the woman who had raised him. My heart fumbled in my chest as a rush of nerves and excitement overtook me at the prospect of meeting the woman. Again, I wished for a nicer dress. Never had I been self-conscious before of my status or what I wore, but I wanted Neirin to be proud of me, not ashamed. I looked to him as if I could find the answers to my unasked questions and worries in his eyes, but I found nothing more than trained indifference.
A girl a few years younger than I greeted us. Her cheeks flushed, and when Neirin asked after Nyana, she nodded and led us into the kitchen. We stopped in the entry, and Neirin shifted his arm, removing my hold on him.
By a crested opening in the wall that looked out to the gardens, the girl nudged an older woman and spoke quietly to her. The older woman turned, a small towel in hand. When she saw us, she dropped the rag, and her hand went to her chest.
“Nyana.” Neirin’s tone held a deep warmth when he spoke her name. He went to her, leaving Calix and I behind, and took her into his arms. “How I have missed you.”
The woman, a fair two heads shorter than he, held tight to him. Her knuckles were white where they bunched in the leather of his jacket as tears streamed down her cheeks. When he broke the embrace, she sniffled as she held his gaze.
“I promised I would return,” Neirin said, offering a smile.
“You shouldn’t be here.” Her voice broke. “The guard is searching for you. They believe you killed Kaius.”
“I know, but I have matters to settle.”
She shook her head, then turned her gaze to Calix and I.
Neirin held out a hand, gesturing for us to join him. “My family. Calix”—he ruffled the boy’s hair playfully, drawing him to stand in front of him with a hand on his shoulder—“and Evera.” I took his hand, and he pressed his lips to the back of my palm. “My betrothed.”
Betrothed.
My heart raced. Perhaps I should have been cross with him for making such a statement without asking me first. But it was only a gesture, a way to show what I meant to him. He was mine as much as I was his. Equals. And what we had to face ahead, we would face together.
56
NEIRIN
While Everaand Calix prepared a tea for the Alidian children, I filled my time in idle chat with Nyana. Around us, the bustle of kitchen life went on as Nyana’s girls prepared the morning meal. The scent of rosemary hung in the air, and loaves of bread sat in the stone oven, their pillowed tops rising as they heated through.
Nyana had never believed I killed Kaius, but she expected explanations nonetheless, so I caught her up to the best of my knowledge. I told her first about how Evera and I had come upon the King, and finished up with the letter from Harlan and my belief that the Queen was behind Kaius’s death.
“The woman is unwell,” Nyana said, sitting atop the crate I’d propped myself upon so many times in my youth.
I pushed off the counter where I’d leaned to pace anxiously, running a hand through my hair. “Unwell?”
“Her mind is … unsound. The few times I’ve seen her, she’s seemed short-tempered, on edge. Though in truth, I don’t believe she’s left her room in several days now. I’ve been having the girls take tea and meals up to her chambers.”
The lack of my blood was affecting her, then. I’d suspected it would, though I was unsure to what extent. Nyana, however, did not know the truth of what I was, nor of what the Queenwas. The riddles of lies woven out of desperation to conceal what happened to Thatcher all those years ago stung my throat. “Perhaps her conscience has finally come forward to haunt her for the role she played in her husband’s demise,” I offered, wanting to move away from the topic.
“Neirin …” Calix approached, then hesitated. As a messenger, he’d been trained not to interrupt, but he’d begun to adopt a more casual disposition with Evera and I. He was learning how to balance cautious habits with this new comfort.
“What is it?” I asked.
“The tea is ready.” The boy’s eyes shone with excitement. Something about him seemed different.
“Did you try it yourself?”
He nodded.
